Comfort in Captivity THE TIE - DY E D S W E AT E R I N YOU R C LO S E T
I once was told by hearsays bound to wayward destinations— acceptance entails freedom. To which I replied: Confinement behind mahogany walls after a pledge to my own sin is not the open sky. But then again, a free man does not carry skeletons in downtown streets. Strangers might call him a madman on the loose or worse, a devil’s immaculate work. Funny how their arms take up another free man’s sleeve. And perhaps, their bony clutches were the shackles I never knew I had. With half a foot peeking out and in the rarest of times, a little braver than usual— I was ready to bolt.
On second thought— enough seconds of hesitation to reconsider my resolve:
P O E T RY
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